


before you say the night is over

by worry



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universes, F/F, M/M, Mentions Of: Jace Wayland/Meliorn, WHO CARES ABOUT CANON COMPLIANCE I SURE DON'T
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-19 05:31:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8191996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/worry/pseuds/worry
Summary: “Alternate universes?” Simon asked, because holy shit. Vampires? Yeah, okay. Demons? Right. Half-angels that fight those demons? Totally.Alternate universes? No fucking way.“Yes. This portal will take you through a variety of different ones. The goal is to find your Book and bring it back.”“Any catch?”“You’ll have twenty four hours in each universe to find it. After twenty four hours, you’ll be transported into the next universe, regardless of whether or not you have the Book.”“Okay, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard."(The one where Simon and Raphael are together in every universe except one.)





	

Finding out that alternate universes exist is confusing enough, but being shoved into one with the two most wonderful girls in the entire world is probably the most confusing thing that Simon has ever experienced.

 

To rewind: Camille has the Book of the White and they don’t.

 

They had tried to talk Raphael into giving Camille over, but he wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t _listen._ The book can help wake up Jocelyn Fairchild. The book can fix everything, blah blah blah. Whatever. Raphael is very good at not listening. Raphael is very good at not doing anything that Simon asks. But. Then he said: “I can help you get it without freeing Camille,” and Simon’s eyes lit up. His entire body lit up. Maybe—

 

“How?” he said.

 

“Get Jace’s boyfriend and tell him your situation. Something tells me he’ll help.”

 

“Jace’s boyfriend?” Simon asked, because holy shit, this is News.

 

“You know,” Raphael said, smug smile on his stupidly attractive face. “The Seelie.”

 

Isabelle rolled her eyes. “How can Meliorn help us?”

 

“Ask him about universe jumping,” Raphael said, and ran off because he’s Raphael and he has to keep up this Mysterious And Cool Facade. Typical Raphael, honestly. Completely typical. Simon doesn’t know how he does it.

 

Finding Meliorn wasn’t hard with Isabelle’s help, despite the fact that when they found him he was – well, okay, _distracted._ Very distracted, but he smiled when Simon told him about Raphael’s words in a shaky voice.

 

“He’s always so fun to be around, isn’t he?” Meliorn said.

 

“Yeah,” Simon sighed, “he’s exciting. Can you help us?”

 

“I suppose.”

 

He took them deep into the forest, without explanation because explanations are apparently overrated nowadays, and stopped. He kissed Isabelle’s hand, eyed Simon up and down, and smiled at Clary. “This portal will take you through many different alternate universes—“

 

“Alternate universes?” Simon asked, because holy shit. Vampires? Yeah, okay. Demons? Right. Half-angels that fight demons? Totally.

 

Alternate universes? No fucking way.

 

“Yes. This portal will take you through a variety of different ones. The goal is to find your Book and bring it back.”

 

“Any catch?”

 

“You’ll have twenty four hours in each universe to find it. After twenty four hours, you’ll be transported into the next universe, regardless of whether or not you have the Book.”

 

“Okay, this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard, but… right. How do we get home?”

 

“Open a portal, of course.”

 

“But—"

 

“You have to go now,” Meliorn said, a frightened look on his face. “I really do hope that you find it.”

 

The worst part of it all is that he’s currently standing in an alternate universe and Clary and Isabelle are making out in front of him.

 

Okay, so it’s not _his_ Clary and Isabelle. It’s Clary and Isabelle from this universe.

 

…probably? He wasn’t filled in on _how_ the transportation actually works, but he’s read about this stuff in books, and it doesn’t look like there are two Clarys and two Isabelles, which means that they’re all in their alternate universe bodies.

 

It’s weird. It’s really, really weird. Again: the whole _concept_ of alternate universes is pretty freaky, and this Simon’s body seems to be in a lot of pain… okay. Everything is completely fine. It’s fine.

 

Clary’s body jerks and she pulls away quickly. Now it’s _his_ Clary. Thank god.

 

“Um,” she says, and Isabelle is staring at her.

 

“Yeah, um,” Isabelle says, and – shit – _licks her lips._ “That – yeah. Book of the White. Right.”

 

“Right,” Clary breathes.

 

She turns to Simon, whispers _that didn’t happen,_ and Simon nods. That definitely did not happen. He’ll scrub it from his memory if he has to. Clary and Isabelle have never kissed.

 

Not once.

 

* * *

 

 

Simon is dying.

 

He’s pretty much already dead, but it’s so _hot_ out. Seriously. They’re walking through the city and it has to be like a hundred degrees out, and he’s in a  -- he’s in a _turtleneck,_ what the fuck – and pants and he’s _dying._

 

Clary and Isabelle seem to be avoiding each other, but they’re both dressed appropriately. Meaning: they’re not wearing sweaters and long pants. They look like goddesses, actually. Divine beings.

 

“Is there somewhere we can get a drink?” he asks Clary. “I’m dying here. Why is it so _hot?_ ”

 

“We can try to find something,” she replies, and then she turns—

 

She’s _glaring._

 

“Simon, take that off.”

 

There’s something in his mind that screams _bad idea,_ but she’s right; if he doesn’t take the sweater off, he’ll probably die. Again. Can’t have that.

 

He pulls the sweater off and Clary’s face twists into a smile.

 

“You’ve been very busy in this universe,” she says, and if that means what Simon thinks it means…

 

“What?”

 

“Your neck is covered with bruises,” Isabelle interjects from next to Clary, and Simon is probably so red that he looks like one of Raphael’s questionable meals.

 

Oh. Right.

 

One: he hasn’t had any fantasies about blood since he was thrown into this universe. He licks the top of his teeth…

 

He doesn’t have fangs.

 

He’s not a vampire. He’s not a vampire! He’s human. In this universe, he’s human. One hundred percent human. Not-vamp.

 

Being human and getting action… he could almost get used to this universe.

 

Two: thinking about Raphael seems to make him grow even warmer. He’s going to ignore that.

 

“I’m gonna put it back on,” he says.

 

“Good idea,” Clary says, and Isabelle says – they’re staring at each other. They said the same thing at the same time and Simon can tell that it’s super weird. Isabelle swallows and Clary swallows and for a moment, Simon thinks about the kiss again.

 

Clary and Isabelle are dating here. That must mean something, right?

 

Shit. Do they have _feelings_ for each other?

 

No. Can’t be. Simon knows everything and Clary and Isabelle do not like each other in That Way. Also, the kiss didn’t happen. What kiss? No kiss here.

 

Okay.

 

He slips the sweater back on and Fifth Harmony’s pop hit-slash-complete-masterpiece “Worth It” starts playing from his pants. He wonders, for a moment, _why_ a song is playing from his pants. Maybe he’s hallucinating it, or something like that.

 

Still: it’s a good song. Simon has danced embarrassingly to it a billion times. It’s not the end of the world.

 

“Simon!” Clary says. “Answer it. Maybe whoever’s calling can help us.”

 

Oh. His phone. Obviously.

 

The heat must be getting to him.

 

He fishes it out of his pocket – apparently, he’s got a Buffy the Vampire Slayer themed phone case, which, holy shit, _cool –_ and answers it.

 

“Hello,” says a deep, monotone voice.

 

“Uh, who is this?”

 

“It’s Alec. Pretending that you don’t know who I am isn’t funny anymore, Simon.”

 

“Right. Sorry. What’s up?”

 

Why the hell is Alec calling him? Why? Is the world ending? The world has to be ending. There is no other explanation for this.

 

“I can’t believe I’m actually saying this, but…”

 

Alec, on the other end of the phone, inhales deeply.

 

“I’m proud of you.”

 

The world is definitely ending.

 

“What?” asks Simon. This is _not_ happening.

 

“For proposing. I know how hard it must’ve been, and I know how he is. You actually did something good and I commend that. Congratulations.”

 

Simon’s probably having a fucking heart attack, because:

 

  1. Alec Lightwood just called him. And told Simon that he was proud. What?
  2. Simon proposed to someone. _What?_
  3. The person that Simon proposed to is a “he”. A guy. **_What?_**



 

“Th – um – thank you? Thanks, Alec.”

 

“Yeah,” Alec says, “I have to go now. Bye.”

 

Well, this explains the bruises on his neck.

 

Simon locks his phone and places it back into his pocket. They really, _really_ need to find that book. They _have_ to find that book.

 

“What did Alec say?” Clary and Isabelle ask – in unison, again. This time, Clary looks over at her and _laughs._ Tucks her hair behind her ear.

 

Okay, maybe there _is_ something going on between them. She’s looking at Isabelle like Isabelle is the sun, and, well – she _is._

 

They are perfect for each other.

 

“Nothing at all,” he says quickly. “I mean. Let’s move on.”

 

“Well, did you ask him for help?” Clary asks with a frown. She bites her lip again, and – okay, Isabelle is staring at her lips. How did Simon never realize this before, holy shit, _how?_

“I don’t think there are shadowhunters here,” Simon says, “I mean – I’m not a vamp. Did I mention I’m not a vamp? Because that’s pretty cool. Anyways, I don’t think Alec will be much help. Let’s just go and figure out what the hell we’re doing.”

 

“But Simon…”

 

“ _Clary._ ”

 

“Okay,” she sighs, “ _okay._ We’re moving.”

 

* * *

 

 

The first place that they stop at is a coffee shop. Simon is dying of thirst and hunger, because _hello,_ vampire that hasn’t eaten or had a non-bloody drink in like a billion years. He’s missed food like this – breakfast sandwiches, bagels, cookies, brownies, cupcakes. It’s been so long. He’ll probably down it all in a few bites and look like a complete pig, but who _cares?_ Really, who cares? Simon doesn’t. This is the most excited that he has been in a very long time. Since before the Turning.

 

He’s about to order five bagels, two cookies, one cupcake, and the largest mocha frappuccino that they offer when Raphael turns around and stares at him.

 

Simon jumps about three feet into the air.

 

“Hello complete stranger,” Raphael says. “What would you like today?”

 

He looks at Clary and Isabelle, but they look just as stunned as he does. He’s never seen Raphael like this – he’s wearing an _apron,_ fuck, and a _hat._ A visor with a little cup of coffee embroidered onto it.

 

When he gets back to his universe, he is _so_ giving Raphael shit for this.

 

“Coffee,” he says, barely comprehensible through his laughter.

 

“Is that all? Or do your friends that I have never met before want something as well?”

 

He genuinely can’t tell if Raphael is messing with him, or if he’s just incredibly blunt. It could be either, honestly. Raphael is – well. He’s _cryptic._

 

“I think we’re good,” Simon says.

 

Raphael presses a few buttons into the cash register, mumbles something to – Magnus? That’s _Magnus_ next to him. Then he walks out from behind the counter, and –

 

And takes Simon’s hand.

 

“You’re early,” he says.

 

Simon glances over at Clary, who looks like she’s stifling laughter, and _glares._ He hopes that his eyes convey something like Save Me, Also Don’t Laugh, Holy Shit, What The Fuck Is Happening, Clary, _Help._

Clary’s eyes widen. She nods.

 

“Early… for what?” Simon asks.

 

“You can drop that now,” Raphael says. “It’s getting a little bit old.”

 

Raphael’s hand squeezes his tighter. There’s something digging into Simon’s skin…

 

Oh. Oh _God._

It’s a ring.

 

This is when it all clicks: he’s engaged to Raphael. He _proposed_ to Raphael. In this universe, they’re going to get married. And they’ve no doubt done Couple Stuff, like kiss and make out and – other things that Simon doesn’t really feel like thinking about, for a number of reasons. Okay, so it’s not like Raphael is ugly and gross. It’s not like he’s unattractive. Pretty much everyone in the entire world can see that Raphael is hot as hell. But in this universe, Things have happened between them, and thinking about Raphael like that…

 

He doesn’t really know what this feeling is.

 

“Sorry,” Simon says.

 

Raphael untangles their hands and puts his arm around Simon’s shoulders. “So,” he says, “since you’re here early, I might not have a lot of time, but let’s see what we can do.” He gestures to a table in the very back of it all, pitch dark black corner. Some things never change. “Over there.”

 

Simon, Clary, and Isabelle exchange glances; something like _what is happening_ and _there’s no getting out of this, is there?_

They sit down at the dark table, and the only thing that Simon can think about is Raphael’s hand in his, Raphael’s arm around him. In their universe, Raphael would probably rather walk into sun than touch Simon like that, which is what makes it all so weird. He can see Clary and Isabelle together perfectly, but him and Raphael? Never. Impossible.

 

Its impossibility has nothing to do with Simon’s feelings and everything to do with Raphael’s. Meaning: Raphael doesn’t like him like that. He’s never seen Raphael interested in _anyone,_ come to think of it, and his love life has always been a locked-down topic. He had tried to talk to Raphael about it a while ago on a day where he was particularly grumpy, something like _dude, we need to get you a girlfriend,_ which was obviously met with Raphael’s signature Shut Up, Simon. Point: Raphael doesn’t like him like that. Or at all. Raphael _hates_ him.

 

(Probably.)

 

“Isabelle, have you talked to Jace and Meliorn?” Raphael asks.

 

She looks frightened. “About…?”

 

“Wedding venues,” he says, like it’s the most exciting thing in the entire world.

 

“Wedding venues?” asks Isabelle. “Who—”

 

“Yeah,” Simon interrupts. “Have you? Because, well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m just _so_ excited for the Saphael wedding. Hey, is that what it’s called? Si…phael. Raph…imon.”

 

Raphael gives him the Simon Glare – a glare specifically reserved for Simon. He’s seen it a billion times. This time, however, it’s more playful.

 

Playful Raphael is not something that Simon ever wants to think about again.  


“Right,” he says, “it’s – it’s whatever. I’m just excited. I’m exploding from love, see.”

 

Isabelle nods. “Uh, no,” she says, “I haven’t talked to them yet.”

 

“Well, you better get on that, huh?” Simon says, putting his head in Raphael’s shoulder. Isabelle stares at them, and then her gaze shifts to Clary – jealousy, almost.

 

Clary and Isabelle just need to _kiss_ already, Simon thinks. They obviously like each other. It just needs to happen.

 

The same could probably be said for Raphael and Si—

 

Whatever.

 

Clary shakes her head. “Simon,” she says, “I’m not feeling so good.”

 

“Okay, we should probably get you home, then.”

 

When he untangles himself from Raphael, he feels nearly _lost._ He hadn’t realized how warm Raphael is, here, in this universe, and he hasn’t been touched like that in too long. _So long._

“Hold on, I don’t want you driving that far if you’re sick,” Raphael says, suspiciously caringly. “Why don’t you come over to our place and spend the night? You’ll be better in the morning.”

 

“Oh,” Clary says, “well, uh… thank y—"

 

“Yeah,” Simon interrupts, “thanks. I’m a little concerned about Clary too, so I think we will. You know, I’ll force them to stay with us. Hold ‘em hostage until Clary gets better.”

 

“ _Simon,_ ” Clary says firmly, but he’s nodding at Raphael and pushing them away from the table, out of the door, very very very far away from this coffee shop. He just needs to get _away._ There is no way he is thinking about Raphael touching him Like That.

 

But he’s about to drag Clary and Isabelle to their house. The house where Simon and Raphael live. Together. Alone, not like the Hotel at all. Just the two of them alone together in a house.

 

Right.

 

This would probably work much better if Simon actually knew where he lived.

 

“Simon,” Clary says. “Why did you do that?”

 

“And when did you and Raphael become a thing?” asks Isabelle from behind Clary.

 

“Guys, I don’t know, it just came out of my mouth, okay? But it makes sense, I guess. We’ll need a place to stay.” He turns to Isabelle. “And in our universe – you know, the right, _correct_ universe – I am _not_ dating Raphael.”

 

“You know that it’s okay to like him,” Isabelle says, “right?”

 

“I could say the same about you and Clary,” Simon mumbles.

 

“What?”

 

“Nothing,” Simon says quickly, and to change the subject: “We need to find a way to get to our…” He coughs. “To _Raphael’s_ house.”

 

“I’ll check my phone,” Clary says. “I’ll see if, I don’t know, if I’ve got the address programmed into it or something.”

 

“Good idea.”

 

Simon turns and stares at the coffee shop, lets out a long sigh. It’s a lot to take in.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes them a while and three phones to find the address (apparently Simon’s is the only phone with the address programmed into it, and if they weren’t in a time-crunch he’d be giving Clary and Isabelle shit for it constantly), and their house is _huge._

                     

Apparently, Raphael has a _lot_ of money in this universe. This is probably the only thing that is the same as their home universe - the furniture looks so expensive that it makes Simon feel sick, there are beautiful paintings on every wall, there's even a _pool._ On the top floor, because apparently this house has multiple floors and Simon's engaged to the richest man on the planet.

 

In the first floor’s living room, they sit on the couch, Simon in the middle of Isabelle and Clary because of course. If Clary and Isabelle touched the apocalypse would start, or something like that.

 

“So,” Isabelle says. “How can we find Camille?”

 

“I can ask Raphael,” Simon suggests. “But, y’know… I don’t know what Camille is like in this universe, and if I fuck up, I _really_ don’t feel like explaining the whole Hey, I’m From Another Universe, One Where We’re Vampires And You Pretty Much Hate Me thing.”

 

“It’s basically our only option,” Isabelle states, and, as always, she’s right. Raphael, sadly, is their only option. It wouldn’t be so bad if things were exactly like their universe and Raphael acted like, you know, _Raphael_ instead of whoever this guy is, but the reality of it all is that Simon is going to be forced to ask the leader of the New York vampire clan (who isn’t really the leader of the New York vampire clan), Raphael Santiago, about the girl that he probably despises.

 

It’ll probably go something like this:

 

“Hey, Raphael, where’s Camille?”

 

And then Raphael either laughs or gets angry. He’s not sure which outcome would be worse.

 

“I’ll wait until he gets home,” Simon says.

 

Isabelle is about to say something, he’s sure of it, when a loud noise comes from Simon’s stomach.

 

Oh. He still hasn’t had anything to eat.

 

“I will, um. Be right back.”

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Come on, there has to be _something_ in this refrigerator that isn’t rabbit food. Simon has been eating blueberries like potato chips (which sound really, _really_ good right now) for the last ten minutes as he searches through the fridge, the freezer, and the cupboards for something substantial.

 

This is _such_ a Raphael thing to do, honestly. He can’t imagine Raphael ever eating any junk food. Or anything good, at all. He’s just so boring in that department.

 

Simon, on the other hand…

 

Simon is Simon, which means he has to have something good hidden somewhere in this house.

 

His life goal is now Find The Junk Food In The Saphael Household.

 

He’s going to _find_ it, okay. He’s going to find the food and then eat all of it, and then maybe clean out everything in the fridge, just to see Raphael’s face when he comes home to the sight of Simon nearly throwing up all of his food next to a very empty refrigerator.

 

It’s gonna happen.

 

* * *

 

 

“So,” Clary says, leaning into one of the couch arms. Also known as: very far away from Isabelle Lightwood, who she kissed.

 

“So,” Isabelle says, pressing her arm into the other end of the couch. “Should we…”

 

“Talk about it?” Clary supplies.

 

Isabelle gives a slight nod.

 

“Um,” Clary says, and she can’t believe she’s about to say this, _God,_ “well. I’m not gonna lie to you, Izzy. From the moment we met, when we bumped heads… I did have a little bit of a crush. Okay, more than a little bit.” She laughs. “I guess in this universe I finally get the guts to tell you.”

 

Isabelle is silent. All that she does is stare at Clary and leave Clary feeling cold, thinking _what in the world have I done?_ There’s no way that she could _ever_ like Clary back, except for in this universe where she does, but—

 

Isabelle doesn’t like her and now Clary just looks like a total idiot.

 

Then: “Clary,” Isabelle says.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Isabelle smiles. “I thought you’d never feel that way about me.”

 

Clary smiles, tears poking at her eyes, and leans over and _kisses_ Isabelle Lightwood.

 

This is everything she’s ever wanted.

 

* * *

 

 

It takes a while for Simon to find it, but sure enough, in the very back of the refrigerator’s bottom shelf – three slices of pizza. This almost makes up for the chaos that has been this entire day. They’ve only been in this universe for about three hours, and it’s already super fucking chaotic.

 

He’s about to regroup with Clary and Isabelle, maybe offer them some disgustingly healthy food because that’s probably the kind of stuff shadowhunters eat most of the time, when he sees it:

 

Isabelle, on the couch with Clary on top of her. Oh, and they’re making out.

 

His first thought is _holy shit, holy shit, finally, _and his second thought is _holy shit, holy shit, go back into the kitchen, Simon, give them some space…_

His third and final thought is _how pissed would Raphael be if he came home and saw Clary and Isabelle doing sexy stuff on his super expensive-looking leather couch._

 

_What if we do sexy stuff on that super expensive-looking leather couch?_

_Shut up, self. Shut up._

So that’s a thing.

 

Logic, okay, _logic_ says that they definitely do sexy stuff on this couch. The thought of Raphael doing things like—

 

He can’t think about it. He will never be able to look at couches in the same way, ever again.

 

Okay, so, like, it’s not like Simon thinks guys – guys in general – are unappealing. Come to think of it, Jace is pretty fucking hot, and Alec is, you know, not bad looking. Luke is extremely handsome. It’s just that Simon never pictured himself _dating_ one, much less being _engaged_ to one.

 

But – despite the fact that it’s the weirdest thing to ever happen in the world – he can actually see himself with Raphael, in their universe. That is, if Raphael was something other than constantly grumpy and actually acted like he didn’t despise the entire existence of Simon Lewis.

 

Right.

 

“Simon,” Clary breathes, and apparently Simon has been thinking about Raphael while standing in the doorway this entire time. Embarrassing.

 

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly, “I will come back later. I was just thinking about R... I will come back later. Continue, continue.”

 

He walks away, into one of the rooms, and tries to ignore every Raphael Thought that could possibly cross his mind.

 

* * *

 

It looks like he’s in Raphael’s office, which is pretty weird. He’s been wondering how someone who works at a coffee shop can afford a house like this since they walked in, but now it’s pretty obvious; Raphael has more than one job. There are papers everywhere – on the desk, on the printer, taped to the computer, there has to be like _fifteen_ bulletin boards in this place. Holy shit.

 

He takes a look at one of the bulletin boards. The first paper that he sees reads:

 

CHAPTER TWO: THE TRUTH.

 

The next paper says:

 

“ _Angels Once_ by R. Santiago is going to be the most popular novel of the decade. Its unique writing style and relatable, complex characters give it a very realistic feel; when you read it, it pulls you in. You can really feel everything that the characters are feeling. Additionally, the description that R. Santiago uses when describing the characters’ surroundings is like poetry. 10/10.”

 

“The second installment of R. Santiago’s “Shadowhunters” series, _Downworld,_ is somehow even better than the first novel. In this installment, Gabriel and Shawn finally tell each other about their feelings, which is something we’ve been waiting for since the beginning of time, it seems. I’m not going to give any spoilers, but a certain female vampire’s return messes things up. They just can’t get any happiness, can they? Regardless, it’s a wonderful, beautiful book that I recommend to any sci-fi/fantasy fan.”

 

In Raphael’s beautiful handwriting:

 

_Not good enough._

“Holy shit,” Simon says under his breath. In this universe, the shadowhunters are a _book series?_ Also, his name is _Shawn?_ What the actual fuck, honestly. Writing, though, seems to fit Raphael. It just seems like the kind of thing that he would do.

 

Simon is a little bit (okay, _extremely_ ) curious about these books. He wonders what they’re like, what Raphael’s writing style looks like. It has to be beautiful, from the way the reviewers describe it. Simon can only picture it – flowery, beautiful, emotional.

 

When he gets back to their universe, he’s going to ask Raphael about this. It’ll probably be met with a _go away, Simon,_ but a guy can try, right?

 

Also – _not good enough._ Raphael is out of his mind. He’s getting good reviews. One said it would be the most popular book of the _decade,_ for God’s sake. Raphael, apparently, is a perfectionist, and there’s something inside of Simon that wants to comfort him…

 

Yeah. Not happening.

 

Then there’s a cough and a knock at the door, and Simon turns to see Clary, beautiful hair unkempt, standing in the doorway of Raphael’s “office”.

 

“What _is_ all of this?” she asks, gesturing to the papers.

 

“Apparently,” Simon says, “in this universe, the shadowhunters are characters that Raphael came up with. And wrote into a book.”

 

“Of course,” Clary says, and then: “Listen, Simon, about what you saw…”

 

“I know!” he says – _screams,_ practically. He lowers his voice in an attempt to sound like he’s not super excited about the Clary and Isabelle kiss. Clisabelle? Claryabelle? Clizzy? Whatever. It’s amazing. It’s the best thing to ever happen in the history of the world. “I mean, I know. I’m so happy for you guys.”

 

“Really?” Clary asks. “I thought you were into Izzy.”

 

“Eh,” Simon says.

 

Truthfully, he _was_ into Isabelle. _Was_ being the operative word. Was. Not anymore. She’s perfect for Clary, makes Clary happy, and Clary’s happiness is important.

 

Plus. Well. The whole Raphael situation that he’s been trying to ignore and will continue ignoring until the end of time.

 

“So,” Simon says, with a soft smile, “are you guys, like… girlfriends now?”

 

“I don’t know, we haven’t really discussed it. But I think so.”

 

Clary smiles her wide, beautiful smile. “This is really happening, isn’t it? I’m so happy, Simon. I’m _so_ happy.”

 

“I’m so glad you’re happy,” Simon tells her. It’s completely genuine, but something inside of him…

 

Something inside of him is twisting.

 

* * *

 

 

Raphael’s first words when he walks through the door a few hours later are _I’m going to kill Camille one of these days,_ and the look on Clary and Isabelle’s faces upon hearing it is _priceless._ Their heads shoot up and their eyes widen.

 

“Hey, Raphael,” Simon says. “What’d Camille do this time?”

 

Raphael walks in, sets a cup of iced coffee and a white paper bag on the table, and _kisses_ Simon. On the lips. Simon and Raphael are kissing. That’s a thing that’s happening.

 

He pulls away and Simon’s left stunned, mouth hanging open slightly, very alive heart beating and beating.

 

He kind of maybe possibly… enjoyed it?

 

Oh, shit.

 

“She’s just _evil,_ ” he says. “Today, she saw Magnus and Alec just _looking_ at each other and started screaming.”

 

“Yikes,” Simon comments.

 

Right. Okay, back to the Thing He Needs To Stop Thinking About:

 

Raphael’s lips on his, in a gentle way. Raphael kissing him gently. Raphael _kissing_ him.

 

Raphael and Simon _kissed_ and Simon liked it. A lot. A _lot._

 

He’s pretty much out of his mind.

 

“Hey,” Clary says, poking into the conversation and thankfully pulling Simon’s mind away from it all, “um, I’ve been meaning to talk to Camille, but I haven’t been able to get her when she’s not busy. Do you know where I can find her alone, Raphael?”

 

Raphael sighs. “I would ask why, but… I’m not sure. I believe she lives about an hour away in one of those pretentious luxury apartments, but I couldn’t tell you specifically _where._ You know her. She’s not the kind of person who shares much about her personal life.”

 

 “Thanks.”

 

“Sometimes she gets to work early,” Raphael says. “If you wanted to come tomorrow, then I could probably get her to talk. That is, if you’re feeling better by then.”

 

“I think I will be,” she says. “Simon made me some soup, got me an aspirin… you know. I really appreciate this, thank you.”

 

Raphael smiles (a very uncharacteristic thing in and of itself) and says: “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He turns to Simon. “I’m tired, so I’m going to take a nap. Take care of Clary and Isabelle, show them the guest room in case they’ve forgotten. I love you.”

 

There’s something about the way that he says _I love you,_ deep and genuine, that makes Simon burst.

 

“Yeah, um,” he says. “have a nice nap. I love you more.”

 

“Come _on,_ ” Raphael says with a wink. “You know that’s not possible.”

 

Raphael walks away and leaves Simon half-dead.

He can’t help it. There’s just something so _natural_ about telling Raphael _I love you._ Painfully natural. Despicably natural.

 

He’s going to put a stop to these feelings.

 

“Um,” Isabelle says, and when Simon looks at them Clary and Isabelle are holding hands and it’s _beautiful._ “Do you think we’ll have enough time to get Camille before we’re taken to the next universe?”

 

“For Simon’s sake,” Clary says, “I really hope so.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s ten thirty at night and Simon is fucking exhausted.

 

Clary and Isabelle have already found the guest room and are _presumably_ asleep. Simon is tired. Getting transported into an alternate universe can do that to you.

 

He stares down at the ring on his finger. Not _his_ finger. Alternate Universe Simon’s finger.

 

It’s actually really pretty. Alternate Universe Simon did a good job in picking out the engagement ring. He always imagined himself proposing with a ring pop or something, just as a joke, but this – this is _beautiful._

He sighs and relaxes on the couch. Closes his eyes. He’s almost asleep, or he _is_ asleep, when he hears:

 

“Come to bed, baby.”

 

He jerks up, and—

 

Oh. _God._

Raphael is in a white shirt and _boxers._ Just standing there next to the staircase half-naked. It feels weird, seeing Raphael like this. _Intimate._ If he saw His Raphael like this, His Raphael would probably freak. It just feels wrong.

 

But.

 

Raphael looks _good._

 

Really, really good.

 

“Sorry,” Simon laughs awkwardly, _play it cool,_ “guess I kinda passed out there. I’ll be right up.”

 

“Okay.”

 

* * *

 

 

Of _course_ they sleep in the same bed. Just… of _course._

Why wouldn’t they? They’re _engaged,_ after all.

 

(Simon falls asleep with his head on Raphael’s chest, because again: _of course._ )

**Author's Note:**

> i do Not know how i feel about this i don't really like it, mostly bc of its lack of compliance with canon, but i've been working on it for a Long Time so i decided 2 publish it anyway. pls tell me what you think! please please please! <3


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